A White Rose
by CrazyPerson1
Summary: Roses are beautiful flowers. Each one symbolizes something; red roses symbolism true, passionate love. A black rose means death. But the white rose symbolizes purity, innocence, naivety; all of the traits we consider childish. But little do we know about of their significance to a particular family.
1. T'was a starlight summer night

'Twas a starlit summer night,

And the moon was shining bright;

A young man's dilemma lay unsolved;

On one hand, duty called

For him to serve, to fight and honour

His homeland's laws that makes it stronger.

But on the other hand, his heart that wanders aimlessly,

Was pierced by Cupidon's arrows so surely;

One blessed touch of Venus and his heart thumps loud;

And, clichéd as it might seem, but her face he sees in the clouds,

Her voice he hears in the night, her grace seethed into the wind.

And so he sits, his thought afloat,

There but not quite there,

A deadly, sinister antidote,

Just, and yet, unfair.

* * *

"… That will be all. Connor Ketchum, go to my office without delay. We have things to discuss."

A tall sturdily built man in a uniform stood before the crowd of Rangers. His rectangular face was cleanly shaved, revealing a long scar running from his ears to his chins. His eyes had a grey tint, almost like the colour of those sleek fighter jets you see in movies, and his eyebrows… They seemed to be indefinitely fixed in a slight arch, giving him the impression of an intense officer. The short nose was angled up, giving him an air of authority; not too high to the point of elitism, but just high enough to show that he knew what he was doing. His pale lips were closed in a disciplined manner; if one was to look carefully, one would see a carefully stitched scar on his lips, suggesting an old war injury. Despite his age, everything about his appearance, especially his short military haircut, screamed that this was not a fragile old man in need of protection; this was a mighty warrior, ready to protect his people at a moment's notice.

He was General Falcon, his medals covering his uniform. If one looked carefully, then one could see the Viridian Feather award; an award, only given to the best of the best. In the whole history of the Kantonese Federation, only 7 of these medals were ever given out! To have received one was a tremendous honor. Anyone who was awarded the medal commanded respect and admiration of everyone around him. And General Falcon was no exception; he was a disciplined man of highest moral standards. The Rangers he trained were some of the best ones in the world. To study under him was a great honor. But, it was also a great responsibility; General Falcon demanded nothing short of one's best. The terms 'slack off' and 'free pass' didn't exist in his vocabulary; he treated every single one of his soldiers equally, whether he was a homeless boy with potential, or a minister's son. If you screwed up, you screwed up; period. You succeeded, then, well, good for you. Not to say that he didn't care for them; deep inside, as much as he refused to acknowledge it, he still loved his trainees like sons; well, in his own twisted way.

But most of all, he was a practical man; not a minute was to be wasted; and a wide spectrum of things were considered a waste of time by the old general. So to be summoned to his office, you must have screwed up badly somewhere. In fact, as Lt Surge once admitted, it was one of the things he was scared of most. Lieutenant Surge! One of the Gym Leaders, the military officers of major cities! To be a Gym Leader, you had to be incredibly skilled; in fact, Lt Surge was considered the most brutal and efficient battler of all of them! Of course, Blaine was more experienced and Giovannie was considered a genius. But, overall, he was still the third strongest Gym Leader of Kanto!

So to have him admit that he was scared of General Falcon, that more than shows the old man's intolerance to slacking off, failure due to having not put enough efforts, and just what a bad idea it was to piss him off in general. So, Connor Ketchum being summoned to the office was a shock to everyone; Connor was seen as an exemplary Ranger. He was one of the general's best men. Even though the war was far behind, the Rangers were still active, tracking down old relics of the war, protecting settlements from dangerous Pokemon… Naturally, someone had to see those operations. And General Falcon was chosen. But, due to old age, the old man often needed assistance- no matter how much he refused to admit it. Connor was something like a right hand to the old general; Connor was trusted to keep order and discipline in the ranks of the Rangers.

"Hey, Connor!" Connor turned around in slight annoyance.

"What is it? Make it quick, Lance; you know how he's like when we're late." Connor turned around, his timber-wolf eyes filled with a mixture of annoyance and slight fear. Lance smirked; Connor was always a serious guy; always focused, solemn and emotionless. In fact, Lance hasn't heard him laugh; ever, not in the 12 years they served together. But Lance knew that underneath that stone-cold face, there was a guy who just wanted to have fun. Lance still remembered the time they all got drunk, after all. Suddenly, a devilish master-plan conceived itself inside his head.

"Promise me you'll come back, darling." Seeing his friend's eyes bulge in surprise, Lance erupted in laughter. His stomach was aching from laughing so much, when suddenly… Ow! He felt like a two-ton truck hit him in the guts. Looking up, his eyes still damp with tears from his 'howling', he saw Connor with a murderous look.

"Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again." Lance gulped. Connor was a good guy; he wasn't the mushy type that would cry with you about your problems; he'd just sit, listen to it, and give you an advice at the end. But, if there was one thing he did not tolerate, than that was joking about his wife.

* * *

Connor stood in General Falcon's office. Just like the man himself, the room was modest and practical; no decorations. Just a desk, a few bookshelves and a drawer with his belongings. General Falcon himself stood quietly at the window, looking far into the mountains. An uncomfortable silenced settled. Connor nervously shifted. The suspense was killing him. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Sir?" General Falcon finally responded, slowly turning around. As he walked closer, Connor couldn't help but think that the old man was taking his time. Each second that passed felt like an eternity to Connor. Come on, faster! The sight of his superior's faces a mere few inches from his own jolted Connor back to reality. Connor automatically straightened up, standing to attention.

A few tense seconds later, General Falcon finally spoke up. "At ease, soldier."

A few more seconds passed. Tension was so thick it was palpable; and, so was the awkwardness. After all, the general was a practical person; he never wasted time on anything. If he had something to be said, he said it. If he wanted to do something, he did it. He never spent time excessively.

"I know what you plan to do." Connor felt his heart skip a beat; had the old general found out? It was a difficult decision, but his father drilled the importance of the family into Connor. However, he didn't know how the old general would react to that. He knew how much the old man trusted him. Rumors said that Falcon planned to make him his successor.

So, Connor stood, for the first time in his life, not knowing what to do. The old general turned away from him, looking at the mountain tops just outside of the Indigo Plateau, their headquarters. Guilt gnawed at Connor; he knew how much faith the old general put into him. Finally, General Falcon broke the silence.

"Let me tell you a story." Seeing that Connor was about to object to it, he raised a hand. Turning back to Connor, the old general smiled softly – something that no one thought was possible.

"They always say that the Great War was brutal and harsh… But no words can do it justice. Why? Because the war spared no one; not the children, not the women, not the elderly." General Falcon closed his eyes, but not before Connor spotted a haunted look.

"I remember being drafted into the army. I had a young wife. Oh, what a fine woman she was! Kind, gentle, beautiful… She was so full of life, so confident… She was everything a man could have wanted." General Falcon sighed, reluctantly pulling himself back to reality. He looked at Connor, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, just like that wife of yours. I remember seeing my wife at the train station, just before I, along with about 700 boys from our town, St Jacturas, set out to war. She stood there, tears in her eyes. She clearly didn't want me to leave; but she knew it was for the good of the nation. So I left for the army. Knowing that I was doing it to protect her, I was able to find the strength to carry me through the boot camp. That knowledge carried me through the war; the Battle for the Sevii islands, the Battle of The Cerulean Cape, The Siege of Fuschia…" General Falcon turned back at to the window, not wanting to show the pain in his eyes.

"Then, the damn 9th Legion turned coats. With the support of the traitors, The Unovans managed to push us all the way back St Jacturas- a few miles away from Viridian. However, through some miracle, we were able to defeat them when they attacked the town. We put artillery cannons and Blastoise on the roofs of tall buildings, including the town's only hospital. Unfortunately, in a last ditched effort, the damn Unovans attacked the hospital. My darling has volunteered to help the doctors there. They hit it with several hundred men; we couldn't get there in time. Perhaps if they'd attacked 25 minutes later…" Connor's eyes widened. Even though General Falcon often told stories of his days in the army, he never, ever mentioned anything from his personal life.

"I've never seen her again. I still remember her eyes sparkling when she smiles; I still remember her voice. "

...

"Go to her. And promise me, son; never leave her." Connor felt of torrent of emotions run through him. The only one who called him 'son' was his own father. Now that he thought about it, General Falcon was a spitting image of his father. To have his superior call him like that not only brought back memories of the insecurities he used to have as a child, crying for his father's recognition; the word also brought an immense amount of satisfaction and pride that he couldn't really explain. Perhaps because he finally received open recognition from the grouchy old general; perhaps it was because the man has indeed become his unofficial adopted father. But, excusing himself, Connor couldn't help but note the bright smile plastered on his face; one that he couldn't remove no matter what. Ah well; best call Delia about the news.

* * *

"Mommy, is dad finally going to come home?" A small raven haired boy bounced around excitedly. He was finally going to meet his Daddy! No more teasing about his father from the other boys!

A woman stood at the table, dicing an onion, her long mahogany hair tied in a neat braid. She couldn't help but smile at her son's enthusiasm. Truly, as she herself was excited; ever since she'd heard the news, she just felt like singing. Even her little boy, with all his denseness and self-absorption, asked her why she was dancing. Why wouldn't she? Her husband would finally retire and come back!

"Yes darling, he's finally coming back." Delia winced as she almost cut her finger; she was getting distracted.

"Why don't you go out and play with Gary?" Delia couldn't help but grin widely when she heard rapid footsteps. The little boys were inseparable! Too bad little Gary was leaving for the Viridian Academy… Wait, what is that smell? Oh no? She had accidentally burnt the toast!

* * *

Gary lied on the grass, counting clouds. Oh, there's the cloud that resembled an Absol. Rapid footsteps alerted Gary tot someone coming. Turning his head, Gary spotted Ash running towards him. Gary couldn't help but notice the extra bounce in his friend's steps, the way his eyes were gleaming for some reason… What made him so happy?

"Hey, Gary." There was something in Ash that Gary liked; he instantly adapted to and accepted Gary's way of life, instead of just calling him a weirdo and running away, just like the other boys. He didn't try to change Gary; instead, he just went along with the flow.

"What's up, Ash?" The shifting sound that followed let Gary know that Ash sat up.

"I'm fine. Are you sure you have to go?" Gary felt a small twinge in his heart at his friend's plead. Ash was the only friend he had made, and no matter how much he denied it, he has become a tad bit possessive. But still, he was to go to the Viridian Academy! The most prestigious academy in the region! But still, he felt like he was letting Ash down.

But, despite the general sadness that permeated the air, Gary saw his friend perk up the way he did when he was excited. Like when Gramps decided to give them a tour at his Ranch.

"I'll see you off, then, I suppose." After a brief pause, Ash continued. "My Dad's coming home!" Well, Gramps did say that family was the most important thing in the world, so maybe that explained his friend's excitement. Gary knew he should be happy for Ash, but that did little to appease the growing void inside of him.

"We'll have so much fun! He'll take me fishing or, or maybe he'll take me on a camping trip!" Gary felt a wave of loneliness wash over him. He didn't know why; his conscience and morals told him that he should be happy for his friend, but deep inside, he just felt… nothing. He felt literally nothing; and most frighteningly, the feeling was almost… familiar, yes, familiar. So, giving a weak smile, Gary sat up in deep thought.

"Hey look, that cloud is like an Arcanine!" Gary looked up at the cloud that Ash was pointing at. Wait a second, that's not an Arcanine; it's more like a, a, Mightyena or something. Yes, a Mightyena.

"That's more like a Mightyena." Gary blinked in surprise; why did he sound so skeptical? It was almost…

"Nah, I still think it's an Arcanine. See the bushy tail?" Gary sighed in relief; it seemed like Ash didn't take offence to that. Or he was distracted, Gary couldn't tell which. And, for a second, it almost seemed like an Arcanine. But, a light breeze flew by, and it once again became a Mightyena.

* * *

"Come on, Ashy, stand still, let me get your hair done…" Ash didn't know why Mom was so fussy about his look; it's just his father coming home. Speaking of whom, Ash's thoughts were once again filled with all of the things he had seen fathers and sons do in those old movies. Maybe they'll play baseball, perhaps they'll go hiking… A painful yank elicited an indignant yip from him, making him glare at his mother. Damn, his hair! Ash sighed as Mom shot him a sheepish smile; mothers!

Rolling his eyes, Ash let his thoughts drift back to his father; would he look just like him? Ash pictured a tall, tall man. Oh and strong too, and cool, and, and, he would play with him, and they would go and do all sorts of interesting things…

Ding Dong! Ash was snapped back to reality by the bell ringing; glancing to the side, Ash saw his mother rush down, running to the door. Ash grinned widely in excitement; he was finally going to meet his father!

* * *

Connor stood in front of a small modest house. Nodding in gratitude at his loyal Pidgeot, Connor recalled the avian back to its Pokeball. Turning back to the house, Connor let his memories overflow. He could almost see Delia happy face, as she sang in delight at the two of them finally having a place to call their own… Shaking his head loose of those unnecessary thoughts, Connor took a step toward the house.

No, he couldn't do it, could he? How would Delia react? Would she welcome him back with open arms, or would she spew all the venom she could have gathered over the years at him? Sure, she sounded like she was happy to see him again, but he knew she could have easily faked it. Hell, her voice was clearer than the cleanest, purest mountain brook; he had no doubt she could have become a famous singer had they not met! But, after all, he did return to the RTF (Ranger Task Force) a few days before she gave birth to their son, so he wouldn't be surprised if she despised him for that.

And speaking of whom, Connor was genuinely curious about his son. " _The one that you'd abandoned four years ago_ ", the voice inside his head whispered. " _You left him then; how can he know you won't leave him now?_ " Connor did his best to ignore it, but soon it became too much. Connor punched the wall in frustration, and, to his horror, he hit the doorbell. He felt his blood freeze; he wasn't ready for this! What should he do? Wait, there are some bushes; perhaps he could hide there? But the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps told him that it was too late. So, steeling himself for the evening to come, Connor adjusted his hat, before the door opened.

"Hello darling!" Right in front of him stood Delia. She was still as beautiful as ever… Connor did his best to smile, but his guilt was slowly chipping at whatever confidence he had left. Suddenly, he found himself in a tight embrace.

"Oh honey, I've missed you so much!" Connor didn't know what to do. Has she forgiven him? He found the embrace highly uncomfortable; years of serving under General Falcon has taught him that such gestures of affection were pointless; after all, you didn't need intimate contact to show your love. But Connor couldn't find it in himself to push Delia away; so, he just stood there, taking in her familiar scent.

"Ew!" Connor spotted a little boy, no more than 4 years old. His face was shaped like an inverted triangle, his cheeks full of baby fat. The forehead jutted out in an almost regale angle, the chin was jutted slightly up, his hair was an untamed spiky mess; the little boy's face practically reeked of stubbornness. And the chocolate brown eyes, the slightly elongated eyelashes… Connor didn't know why, but he just had that strange, yet somewhat warm urge; what was going on?

Hearing the sound, Delia turned around. Spotting her son, she exclaimed in happiness. "Hey, Ashy, say 'hi' to daddy!"

Connor found the corners of his lips lift when he saw the little boy- no, his son, roll his eyes. The emotions he was feeling… They seemed almost… alien to him; yet he also found them warm and comforting. It was strange, mysterious… Yet, it was also strangely satisfying; Connor couldn't identify his emotions; after years of self-disciplining and soul searching, Connor couldn't identify his emotions. It was strange…

"Mr., are you really my father?" Connor looked back at his son…

* * *

"Mr., are you really my father?" Ash knew the answer, but he still couldn't believe it. His father, the man who's been missing in his life, the one who he had only seen in photos, was here, standing in front of him. His father was here!

"Yes son, yes I am." Ash didn't know what happened, but he soon found himself in his father's arms, easily lifted. Wow! He was so strong! Hey! He could see the balconies from here!

"I can see that balcony!" Ash shouted happily. Never before had he been so high up! Hearing an amused giggle, Ash turned around.

"Mom, stop embarrassing me!" All of the sudden, a thought conceived itself in his head. Turning to his newfound father, Ash pouted, pointing a finger at his mother.

"Dad! She's always embarrassing me!" Ash whined, much to Delia's amusement. "Can you please get her to stop?"

A few moments passed, with Connor doing nothing, Ash shouted out "But it's true!" The little boy pouted further as he was put down, his feet touching the ground in obvious disappointment. Ash turned his head high up, making Delia laugh. However, what the little boy didn't notice, than it was Connor's face darkening. Connor straightened up, walking into the house.

""What's with him, Mom?" Ash was slightly worried; did his father not like him? Would he go away again?

"He's just tired, darling. He'll play with you tomorrow." At that, Ash jumped up in excitement, running to his room, the loud sound of footsteps resounding through the house. Delia smiled; little children were always so funny!

* * *

"Now, now, Mr. President; you know what will happen if you do not… cooperate with us." The small office room was eerily dark, the metal curtains covered the window, shutting away all but a few tiny rays of light. Ironic if you think of it from a certain point of view.

A short, bald man, known to the public as President Edward Ippana, was sweating furiously. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he held his breath, making the sound of his thumping heart- a sign of fear- clearly audible. He knew what he was asked to do was wrong, but…

"So what do you say, _Mr._ _President._ " His… interlocutor, sat up a little bit straighter, looking straight into the poor helpless President's eyes. Edward found the scrutiny highly uncomfortable; the man sitting opposite to him was well known in the social elite by his careful political manipulation. He knew what he wanted, he knew who could get him what he wanted, and he had the force to get what he wanted. Nothing was outside of his grasp; power, money… even the support of at least a third of the Army, and its elite parts at that! Some said it was because of his high position in the government, others attributed it to his cold, calculating mind that seemed to always remain at least ten steps ahead of his opponents. Edward, from his numerous dealings with the man, attributed it to his gaze; the sharp, raptor-like stare always gave the impression that the man was tearing through layer after layer that your mind has put up. And he wasn't even a psychic!

"I- I need a few mo- more years. The military is still unprepared for an operation of such a scale." Damn it! Edward cursed internally as he stuttered; he couldn't show that he was intimidated. But those eyes, burning deep into his soul… The mysterious man kept up the scrutinizing stare for a few more moments, before lighting up a cigar. Exhaling a stream of smoke at Edward, he suddenly grabbed a carefully concealed dagger and pressed it to Edward's throat.

Edward instinctively moved back, his eyes widening when he felt the cold hard blade touch his neck. This was the first time that he was being threatened with a weapon directly; his entire life flashed before his eyes as he felt more pressure being applied on the steel. What would his wife think? Would she weep for him for the rest of her days, or would she casually move on as if he had never even existed? How would his old parents cope without him?

To his surprise, Edward found his opponent withdrawing the weapon, amusement clear in his tormentor's eyes. Letting go of the breath he had been subconsciously holding, Edward gingerly touched his neck. The skin underneath the blade was more raw and delicate, but it wasn't a deep wound, Sighing in relief, Edward turned to his tormentor, only to find him gone. In his place was a note consisting of two words. However, those two words were more than enough to send chills down the president's spine. The two words were 'Tempus fugit.'

* * *

Connor sat at the table, looking on in disgust as his son scarfed down the food like a hog. His wife's cooking skills were the best; but just seeing the eating manners- or, in this case, the lack of thereof, killed his appetite.

Delia, being a keen woman, immediately realized that something was off about him. "Aren't you hungry, dear?"

Leaning to his wife, Connor carefully whispered, his gaze fixed on the lantern hanging from the ceiling in order to not see the 'Snorlax' of the table. "Didn't you teach him proper table manners?"

To that, Delia merely giggled, covering her mouth with a hand. "Of course I have. But no matter how much he tries, he just can't eat with proper manners! And besides, that's adorable!"

Connor frowned. Of course, he knew that he couldn't expect a 4 years old child to have perfect military discipline; but he couldn't help but feel appalled by his son- no, Ash's behavior. Connor vividly remembered his father raising him in a household with strict rules and regulations. When he was a child, he, of course, hated all those 'stupid' rules. But when he grew up, he realized their importance. And to this very day, Connor was deeply grateful to his deceased father for instilling the strong sense of honour and duty into him. And the little brat sitting in front of him was, as of that moment, unfit to be called a man. Connor knew he needed to take drastic actions, lest his son grew up just those soft, pathetic excuses for young defenders of the land of their ancestors; the embodiments of all the terrible sins commonly used by Ancient Selennic writers.

"Ash, son, eat more slowly; you're not a Snorlax that's just come out of hibernation." At that, Ash lifted his little head, cocking it in confusion. Connor once again felt the small urge from before, but he ignored it.

"It's not polite, son. Do you want to go outside and have people whisper about you from behind your back?" Connor slapped himself mentally; he'd have to use more primitive words next time.

But, to his surprise, his little son shook his head. "They say all sorts of things about me already, so what's the point?" Connor felt his eyes widen in surprise, but he closed them. What's been happening in the town during his absence?

"Alright then, do you want other people to whisper nasty things about us, your parents?" To his further surprise, Ash once again rolled his eyes.

"They already do that as well." Connor felt a surge of anger within him; how dare they? Opening his mouth to ask further questions about it, a polite cough interrupted him. Turning to the side, Connor saw Delia look at him disapprovingly.

"Ok then, let's play a game, okay?" Connor couldn't believe himself; what was he doing? However, seeing Ash nod in excitement, he knew there was no turning back.

"If you eat normally, and by that I mean chewing slowly, and just taking time to enjoy your meal, I'll give you a piece of candy." Seeing his son's eyes sparkle in delight at the mention of the Holy Grail of all children, Connor shook his head in slight annoyance; he needed to… rehabilitate his son, so to speak. Already, memories of his childhood rushed back to him.

* * *

"Daddy, look, I'm juggling!" A small boy the age of 5 stood, his brows furrowed in concentration as he juggled two balls. A few weeks ago, his Father had finally taken him to the circus; all the clowns, and the dragon-tamers… Oh and the Pokemon too! There were Pyroar, and Ninetail, and Seel… there was even a Dragonite and Popplio! The adorable little water-type was so funny! And best of all, it could juggle! It had taken Connor 3 weeks to master this, but he'd finally managed to juggle the little golf balls!

His father on the other hand, didn't share the same excitement.

"Do not waste time on such silliness. You'd be better off doing Mathematics." Connor couldn't believe it; yet again, his father just waved off all of his efforts like they were nothing! No matter what he did, no matter how much he tried, his father would just wave it off! Connor felt himself shaking with anger, his nails digging into his palm, forming a punch. Connor just wanted to tell his father how he felt, he just wanted some form of acknowledgement… But all of those rebellious thoughts melted away under his father's strict stare.

* * *

Connor sat in meditation, looking at the moon. He didn't know what to do; he wanted to make his son a man; a true man, ready to protect his homeland. But at the same time, he didn't want to become the strict tyrant that his own father was.

What should he do? Connor didn't know what to do; and the inability to decide was torturing him. So, he asked the only question he could; what would the old General do? The answer seemed so obvious, yet… Could he do it? Connor, for all of his courage on the mountains and in the forests, for all his strengths and discipline, was unsure of what to do. The pressure was just too much.

But then, almost as if some higher force decided to help him, a new thought appeared in his head; how would HE bring up his son? Not his father, not general Falcon, but what would he _do_?

* * *

Yay! It was a brand new day! Ash loved mornings- the funny colours of the sky during sunrise, the lovely chirp of Pidgeys… It was all so wonderful! Had he been a female lead in a movie, he would have broken into a song, but fortunately, it was not the case. So, springing up from his bed with enough enthusiasm to bring a smile to even the most cold-hearted people, Little Ash ran to the bathroom to wash up.

Meanwhile, down in the living room, Connor and Delia were drinking coffee, stealing glances at each other like awkward love-struck teenagers. And what made the situation even more embarrassing, to Connor at least, were the thoughts that roamed his head. Although he tried to focus on the article about the new tax laws, Connor's eyes would subconsciously drift to Delia, to her lovely, heart-shaped face, her beautiful, hazel-colour eyes, her thin, curvy- wait, that's enough. Connor shook his head; he needed something to distract him.

"So," Connor said in an attempt to break the awkward silence, "how's Professor Oak?"

At that, Delia brightened up immediately, averting her gaze from the thin, yet barely noticeable scar on her lover's cheek to meet his eyes, his sharp, piercing timber-wolf eyes… Wait, she couldn't get distracted now.

"Oh, Samuel? He's fine! Well, he still makes a big mess after his tests, but he's fine!" Delia laughed lightly, waving her hand in a lady-like manner. She didn't know why, but when he was next to her, she almost felt like a fragile flower, carefully tended to.

Connor usually frowned when such a great man as Professor Oak was referred to by anything other than his title; after all, a man should be remembered by what he contributed to society. But Connor just couldn't get mad at Delia; with her wide eyes and sleek eyebrows, she was almost the picture of innocence. But most importantly, every time she was near him, his heart beat just a little faster, everything seemed just a little brighter and everyone seemed just a little kinder. He couldn't understand that strange, warm and fuzzy feeling; it was almost familiar, he could almost tell what that emotion was. Yet, at the same time, it also felt strange.

After another awkward silence, Connor once again tried to break it. "So, how are his grandchildren?"

"Oh, well Daisy went to study abroad. That girl, I wouldn't be surprised if she came back with a Red Diploma!" Delia waved her hand over her mouth courtly, laughing inwardly. More like a boyfriend along with a Red Diploma! That girl was always so smart! She pretty much had all the boys of Pallet wrapped around her tricky little fingers. Poor Kalosians…

"And, what about Gary?" Connor didn't know what was going on in her head, but if the mischievous glint in her eyes was to say anything, than she found it funny. Oh and the way her thighs rubbed together, her lovely- wait, that came out wrong.

"Oh, well he's best friend with Ash. The boys are practically inseparable!" Well, at least his son still had friends…

"Where is he?" Gary muttered, pacing around his backyard. Normally Ash was the one waiting for him, not, well, this! But it probably didn't mean anything, right? He was probably just late, or, or catching up with his father, right? There was no need to worry, no, none at all. Gary stopped in his tracks as it suddenly dawned on him. What if Ash didn't need him anymore? After all, he did have his father now, right? After all, surely his friend would want to spend one more day with him before they parted, even if it was just for a year, right? Right?

Gary shook his head. No, he was probably late, that's all. Yes, perhaps Ash was being fashionably late…

* * *

Several months- check that, a year later, Connor found himself sat on a chair outside the room in which Delia was giving birth; the Asahian religion strictly forbid anyone being in the same room as the mother when she gave birth, with the exception of a person, in this case, Professor Oak, whose task was to deliver the child. While he wasn't a particularly religious or superstitious person, and neither was his wife, but the town seemed to believe that any child who was born under the presence of anyone else was cursed, and would bring a heap of trouble to the town. Such a silly tradition! His wife was screaming in pain in the next room, and he couldn't be there to help her!

Feeling something tug his legs, Connor looked down and spotted his faithful Espeon, the same one that was given to him as a present on their first wedding anniversary. Nuzzling him in an attempt to comfort him, Espeon purred reassuringly, almost as if she was trying to calm him down. Yes, she was right, worrying wouldn't fix anything. But still…

Connor suddenly found a picture of a can of Pokechow fleeting through his mind. Looking down, he saw the Espeon faking ignorance. Damn it, she was doing it again! For a Pokemon, she sure was smart…

* * *

 **RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-**

* * *

 **AN: No, I'm not dead. Yes, I should probably be ashamed of myself. But having a writer's block and a crap tonn of homework can hamper the most enthusiastic writers. Not that I m one, anyways. :P**

 **But anyways, I have the second chapter nearly completed and, if i don't forget about it, the I should post it on Sunday. But for now, enjoy the edited version that doesn't screw over Gary's personality.**


	2. A lily flower sprout from the ground

Ash really didn't know what to say, or even what to think. On one hand, he supposed that he should be glad that he would have a sibling. On the other, his mother's pregnancy period was a nightmare. She got upset at things she really didn't even care about, she, for whatever strange reason, found herself craving sweetmeats, forcing his father to make daily trips to Viridian City. Of course, that meant that he was stuck home, looking after his mother who insisted on making 'heart-to-heart', as she called them, conversations. Damn, she even gave him a 'birds-and-bees' speech, all because Leaf decided to visit them. Yes, he supposed he should be glad, but why did Arceus have to make pregnancies so damn complicated?

* * *

The baby has, at long last, been delivered, much to the Ketchums' relief. While the soothing light radiating from the moon touched the newborn's skin for the first time, the child… still needed to be cleaned, so to speak, which was why the two men of the Ketchum family were waiting outside.

The little boy, Ash, was, understandably, excited; but, of course, with a tint of anxiety; would the baby be born healthy, or would it- no, she, according to Professor Oak- inherit some deadly disease?

"You're worried, aren't you?" Ash felt a hand reassuringly clasp his shoulders; it might not have meant much in many situations, but in the _Senshi_ culture- the code of honour strictly followed by the Asahian military, clasping a shoulder was called a 'Sonkei'. The gesture was equivalent to a 'hug', a gesture of affection that was considered a sign of weakness due to its supposed femininity. Clasping a shoulder on the other hand, was also a way of showing respect to your comrades; and Ash didn't quite know if he should be happy or sad about it.

On one hand, his father respected him enough to extend him the gesture; and in a society where children were expected to be obedient 'students' to their parents, that was a very good thing. On the other hand, Ash couldn't explain the feeling that something has almost… sucked in a part of him, leaving a big void inside. No, that was probably worry about his newborn sister; yep, definitely. His relationship with his father was perfectly fine. "Or were they?" A tiny voice whispered to Ash, hissing like the snake from legends of the Garden of Eden in the faraway Christian lands.

Shaking his head from the troubling thoughts, Ash turned to his father.

"Of course you are worried; that's perfectly fine." The clock struck 12 at that precise moment, making Ash wonder if life was just a script where everything was pre-planned, or if the strange, suspiciously timely occurrences where mere coincidences. His father however, ignored it wholly; Ash sometimes envied his parent's ability to shut off external sounds at will.

After a moment of silence, Ash saw his father lean back to gaze at the moon out of the corner of his eyes. "You know," Ash heard his father say, "I had a sibling too." Ash perked up in interest; while his father told him about a lot of interesting things, ranging from great scientists to the lives of famous generals, from the structure of the Asahian military to legends of the faraway land of Kalos, his father had never revealed anything from his personal life. So Ash subconsciously sat up straight, oblivious to the thoughts running- no, flashing past like a blazing bullet in his father's head.

* * *

Connor was looking at the moon; after almost four days of constant blizzards, a clear night sky was a very welcome sight. But that was all Connor was doing; he was merely looking at it, giving the glance little to no attention. Instead, his thoughts were subconsciously focused on the images fleeting through his head. And try as he might, he couldn't catch any of those images; every time it seemed like he was going to have to relive those horrible times, the images evaded his brain, fleeing like a cunning, slippery vulpine. But yet, they still forced the memories back into his head. He remembered his mother… He remembered how she, too had gotten pregnant… He remembered the day when she finally gave birth… And, by some cruel twist of fate, she died.

Connor also remembered, quite vividly, the depression into which his father fell at the death of his life-mate… Before miraculously recovering, carried on by the love to his new son… He remembered how his father would spend entire days at cradle, playing with the sickly baby… Before his little brother died from an illness, inherited from his grandmother…. Fate was cruel, was it not? Wrenching away a woman, one part wife, one part mother, from the people who loved her the most; and then, poetically delivering the final, crushing blow by taking the only remaining memory of her that was left. Why poetic? Because none of those deaths could be prevented; both were 'fated', as the priest said.

* * *

Professor Oak smiled softly. He couldn't explain why, perhaps it was the soft spot he had for children, perhaps it was something that was instinctively instilled to humans for them to care for their future generations… Nevertheless, the Connor's face relaxing in relief, the exhausted, yet happy and caring smile on Delia's face, the curious and slightly nervous look on little Ash's face all filled the aged professor with a strange euphoric sensation. He vividly remembered the first time his wife gave birth, delivering him John- the father of Gary and Daisy, his two precious grandchildren. He remembered the tired smile his wife had as she gazed at the tiny bundle of energy in her arms; Oak could almost see John crawl all over the place while his ever faithful Arcanine kept a watchful eye on the baby.

"Well, the baby appears to be healthy. However, be careful with the child; this year's winter is particularly harsh." Oak dried his hands in a towel, trying to keep a smile off his face at the sight of Connor's Espeon carefully pad towards Delia, prodding her, curiously studying the baby.

"Why would the weather matter?" All heads turned incredulously at Ash who looked down in embarrassment. "I mean, she'll be in the building, right?"

Professor Oak chuckled good-naturedly. "Newborns are much more sensitive to cold, largely due to their thinner skin and underdeveloped thermal-regulating system." Oak didn't expect Ash to understand that, of course. After years of experience, Oak found out that children would stop pestering for answers if he started talking in a more formal language. So imagine his surprise when the little boy tilted his head to the side in curiousity, not the least unfazed by that.

"'Thermo' is Latin for temperature, right?" Oak knew that ever since Connor came back, he immediately set Ash upon a strict dictatorial- err, educational regime; hell the whole town knew about it. Of course, when one of the most loud and mischievous kids suddenly sits down behind the table, you know something has changed. But nevertheless, Oak didn't know that little Ash had progressed this far; though, it could have just been his rather obvious interest in history –especially its cultural on social aspects, but the boy's speech patterns alluded to something much bigger. At the age of 7, not only did Ash know a lot of 'advanced' words, but he also actively used them; any new word that he learned, he would hastily incorporate into his vocabulary (leading to all sorts of awkwardly built sentences for a day or two). But the boy's probing gaze reminded Oak that he had to give an answer.

"Yes, Ash; 'thermo' indeed means temperature in Latin. Thus, 'thermo-regulation' is, in this case, the body's ability to change its _internal_ temperature in accordance to the _external_ temperature. For instance, your body warms up when it is cold outside; on contrary, if it is hot, your body lowers its heat levels by sweating- evaporating some of the water." Oak smiled as Ash bounced up slightly- just slightly, barely noticeably; but not to Oak's trained eyes. That action showed Ash's excitement at learning something new- well, aside from his sparkling eyes and relaxed eyebrows, that is. Internally however, Oak sighed; Gary used to be the same. But the letter his favourite (and only) grandson had sent him a while ago felt so… formal, cold even.

* * *

Connor clenched his fists as he read the newspaper; the presidential elections were coming up, and, to be frank, the candidates were little more than clowns. That silly Uttuba Ningyo, with his silly claims about 'modernizing the law', the, for the lack of better terms, stupid Fantouche Shippai, with his plans of 'improving their relations with the Unovans'... The constitution didn't need changes, and they most _definitely_ , most _definitely_ didn't need to 'improve their relations' with the vile Unovans. They ought to punish the murderers, not shake hands with them. What has the country gone to…

"What is it, dear?" Connor found his shoulders sagging down slightly as his eyebrows straightened back. Delia's voice just had that strange effect on him.

"Oh, just the news, darling." Glancing at the kitchen, he saw Espeon gingerly pawing the cradle, curiously looking at the baby from different angles, carefully making sure that the child didn't wake up at the same time.

"So, any ideas on how we're going to name the baby?" Connor said as he set down the newspaper. Well, the politicians may be horrible, but he wouldn't let anyone ruin his daughter's Vesting Day- the day that she'll finally receive a name. As silly as it is, the Asahian religion preached that the baby shall only be named exactly one month and seven days after he or she was born; for, quote-unquote, 'that is when the spirits of the family's ancestors arrive to give their blessing to the newborn'. Connor, of course, thought that the tradition was very silly; even if the spirits of their ancestors did come, then why would they need seven entire days? However, this is yet another tradition that the townspeople fanatically follow,' outlawing' anyone who didn't go along with the flow.

"I don't know, dear. She was born in July, so maybe we could name her Julia?"

Connor stood up; it was 7 in the morning- the time when he would go meditating. "No. Your great-grandmother 's name was Julia, wasn't it?"

"Right." Connor knew that in his wife's family, her great-grandmother was someone no one dared mention. Heck- her name has become a byword used for cursing. And naming their daughter 'Julia' would certainly evoke the wrath of their ancestors, if the Vesting Day's traditions were to be believed.

* * *

"Let's see, so if AB is parallel to CD, then in means that…" Ash was, like usual, sitting on a stone near a pond- his favourite place in Pallet. It was quiet, close to his home, there were multiple trees, the local Pokemon weren't hostile… oh, and the other kids never went here. Well, except for Leaf; and, as if life was a big epic tale with everything timed _just_ perfectly, a small girl bounded up- or, in this case, down, to him.

Feeling a smile form on his face, Ash shook his head slightly and decided to just continue doing the mathematical problems his Dad gave him, hoping that she wouldn't drag him into _yet_ another crazy game that would end up taking all of his time.

"Hey Ash!" Ash sighed. No matter what he tried, he just couldn't help but smile every time she was around. Then again, they do say that laughter is contagious, and Leaf just doesn't seem to know how to frown.

"What is it?" Ash purposely dragged on the sentence, faking annoyance. Well, there went his plans of completing his homework before lunch- ow! Damn, that girl could punch.

Rubbing his arm, Ash glared at his female companion. "What was that for?"

To his surprise, Leaf just simply laughed, her voice flowing like a soft mountain brook. "You know you're glad to see me, you great oaf. So quit acting tough!"

"Oh, alright." Ash folded his notebook, setting it aside. "So, how was the beach?" Ash had that strange feeling of being watched, almost as if a thousand souls were hungrily watching the scene, chanting the lyrics of the song 'Kiss the Girl'. But, like most fiction characters, he merely shrugged it off.

"Oh, it was fine. Nothing special…" Leaf's deep hazel eyes twinkled mischievously, her eyebrows slanting downwards at a sharp angle. At that very moment, Ash had an inescapable feeling of dread pounce on him, mercilessly tearing away at his spine; after all, this particular facial expression meant that his _friend_ had an idea. And her 'ideas' rarely ended well for him.

"Though I did have a cute guy following me around…" Ash, feeling his face heating up, quickly turned around in a valiant, but ultimately futile effort to hide his blush. She'd surprised him! Again!

"Jeez, what happened to the shy, timid girl who'd let herself be bullied by kids below her age?" Ash grinned; he knew that he'd hit the right mark, if her burrowing her head in his shoulder and muttering 'jerk' was anything to say.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Ash tapped lightly on his friend's head- he was starting to get uncomfortable.

"BLGHRHG!" Leaf suddenly pulled out and roared, making Ash jump slightly, falling behind on the grass, much to her amusement.

Ash sat back up indignantly, rubbing his neck. "Stop doing that!"

"Hey, that's no way to treat a lady!" Leaf could only hold a straight face for so long, before both of them erupted with laughter.

Meanwhile, a Pidgey tilted its head to the side, watching the two children play with utmost attention, taking in every detail. Seeing the two play like that, sharing stories and just having fun in general, caused avian giggle a bit, using her wing to cover her mouth. Hours passed, and the Pidgey still sat on the tree branch, carefully watching the children. However, as the rainclouds approached, the avian lifted her head, her eyes glowing a light azure blue light, before beating her wings and flying off into the horizon. Away from the town, away from the other Pokemon, _away from prying eyes…._

* * *

Gary frowned at the window. It was raining again. The Academy was a boarding school; the students who attended were, as he found out, either prodigies who were elitist snobs, or kids of the ruling class who thought they owned the world. Then again, the teachers had quickly disabused them of that notion, but the first year has still been annoying.

Right now, it was the summer. However, Garry just couldn't bring himself to go back to Pallet town. Not when his only friend failed to show up on the day he was to leave. Gary wracked his brain, thinking just why his friend would do that. And then he realized; Ash didn't need him anymore. He had his father now; his father and he "would have so much fun"! Why would he need strange, crazy old Gary!

So no, he just couldn't bring himself to go back home, instead electing to stay behind to attend the summer courses. Though all of his dorm-mates had left. And so, as the rain drummed on, and a few occasional lightning bolts raced across the sky, illuminating the dark, dreary clouds, Gary lay on his bed, quietly contemplating life, even as his book lay next to him, forgotten.

* * *

"So, how are you going to name her?" Samuel Oak quietly whispered as he stood near the cradle, careful not to wake the baby up.

"I don't know." Connor whispered back in an equally hushed voice. "We are still choosing between 'Catherine' and 'Brook'."

"What, afraid she'll turn out just like Actia?" Oak could almost feel the other male frown; well, he had known him for quite some time. And moreover, Actia's name has become a byword for, err, a _lot_ of inappropriate words. Once a young, talented girl whose voice has touched many a heart, she took a turn for worse, ultimately becoming a shame for the whole nation.

"You know, it has more to do with the upbringing than the names, right?" Oak couldn't help but chuckle. Connor, as opposed to his wife, was extremely conservative, fervently defending the old traditions. Yet despite that, he seemed to harbour a deep resentment towards religion.

"Well, nevertheless, you'd better make up your mind quickly; the ritual is about to start." Oak could have sworn that there was a brief flicker of annoyance in Connor's eyes before he turned away.

"You know, you could at least smile a little." Oak shook his head in exasperation as Connor stood at the window, staring at the rain, no doubt in deep thought.

"You know, Connor, you don't always have to plan everything ahead. Trust your old man; sometimes you just have to go along with the flow of life." To Oak's surprise, Connor turned around.

"If only things were _that_ simple." Oak's eyes widened at the sight. Connor's most distinguishable feature were his eyes- they were dark grey, almost wolf-like eyes that almost seemed to pierce into one's soul, taking out the defensive layers bit by bit. But those weren't the eyes Oak saw now; he saw eyes that were almost… empty, defeated. It was almost as if he was looking into the eyes of the titan Atlas, utterly defeated by the burden he carried on his shoulders.

"Professor, we both know that having children is a great responsibility, so how can you just go with the flow!" Oak couldn't help but note the slight hints of desperation in Connor's voice. Knowing he just needed some space to sort things out, Oak wordlessly went out of the room, sighing in pity: Connor was always a responsible young man – perhaps too responsible for his own sake.

* * *

Delia sat at the couch, stroking the little Espeon, absent-mindedly looking at the window. Somehow she couldn't help but wonder if Connor will be alright. From the times when he led the other children –herself included- in a daring escape from the town, held by Unovans, to the time when he joined the RTF, something just didn't sit very well in Delia. And it wasn't envy or pride; but rather, as strange as it might seem, pity. Many people would puzzle over the mere notion of pitying a man like Connor. After all, with a handful of exceptions, he was what many might call an ideal image of a man; brave, disciplined, patriotic…

But those 'many people' didn't really understand him. When they ran away from the Unovans, Connor was visibly shaken; his voice, usually so full of confidence, took to faltering, his kneecaps shook when he was asked what to do next, the almost… empty, overwhelmed look… And even when he went to join the RTF, she could see he was conflicted; torn between the choice of staying with his family and finally settling down like he had always wanted, and the feeling of honour and duty to his Fatherland. While those are the choices that most men had to take, Delia knew how much both of those choices affected her dear Connor.

And now… She knew he was starting to get restless. Perhaps a happy family life just isn't for him. But… As she accidently rubbed Espeon on the wrong spot, the feline grunted in disapproval, making Delia laugh. The little girl sure was smart.

Speaking of little girls, Delia glanced over to the room in which Connor and professor Oak were, wondering if the baby was still sleeping. Well, she would know if the baby woke up, that's for sure. Her little baby would just cry without a break, until either she, or Ash took her up. Strangely enough, the baby instantly took a liking to her son, playing with his thumbs every time he was near. Even stranger though, the baby seemed to be afraid of Connor; while his many scars did give him an intimidating look, that was hardly a reason for her to be scared of him. Though she didn't cry when she saw him, Delia nervously noted how the baby would shrink back a little bit into the cradle.

And that was problematic, to say the least.

* * *

Ash curiously flipped over to the next page, hungrily drinking in the information from the book. The book was titled "Symbolism and Botany", and it was, ironically, a gift to him from Leaf. The 700 pages book covered the structures of different plants, flowers included. However, it also included an extensive list on the potential meanings those plants had in different cultures. And the things that some flowers symbolize are just fascinating! Like how a yellow rose can symbolize not just friendship, but envy and betrayal as well! Sort of ironic, since the book's cover was green- the bright, vibrant colour of life and nature, as well as dark jealousy.

And currently, Ash was reading the section dedicated to the lily flowers.

"Let's see, they're Lilies are tall perennials ranging in height from 2–6 ft (60–180 cm). They form naked or tunicless scaly underground bulbs which are their overwintering organs. In some North American species the base of the bulb develops into rhizomes, on which numerous small bulbs are found. Some species develop stolons. Most bulbs are deeply buried, but a few species form bulbs near the soil surface. Many species form stem-roots. With these, the bulb grows naturally at some depth in the soil, and each year the new stem puts out adventitious roots above the bulb as it emerges from the soil. These roots are in addition to the basal roots that develop at the base of the bulb."

Glancing over to the edge of the page, Ash saw a picture depicting a girl tending to a handful of flowers. The girl was dressed simply; a black, torn-up cape with a hood was draped on her back, carefully concealing her face, giving her an aura of mystery. And yet, the girl wasn't the first thing that came to mind when looking at the picture; the white lily flowers the girl was tending to practically glowed on the dark, gritty background. Ash didn't know why, but the sharp contrast between the gleaming white flowers and the otherwise depressing picture gave him a rather… uplifting sensation. It was a strange, yet at the same time, familiar sensation.

But, the clock ticked on, so Ash, deciding to leave it for later, looked over to the next page. "The beautiful flower comes in many colors- but mostly, in the western culture the flower's meaning remains the same. Lilies typically symbolize hope in western literature (though white ones in particular may also symbolize innocence) …" Innocence… Hope… Then, a thought conceived itself in Ash's head- what is innocence? Is it, as they say, turning a blind eye to the troubles of the world? Or is it simply ignorance? So many questions, yet so few answers…

"What are you reading?" Ash jumped up slightly, whipping his head around in surprise. Behind him stood Professor Oak. His heart thumping, Ash relaxed, turning back to face the old man.

"Oh, Professor-" Oak waved his hand casually, almost as if willing him stop. "Just call me Samuel."

Ash frowned lightly; in Asahia, there was a great deal of attention placed on what an individual could do for society. Thus, people tended to call others by their titles, unless, of course, they were part of one family. And while Ash knew that Professor Oak was close to both of his parents, his father still insisted on calling him Professor. His mom on the other hand, called everyone by their names, saying that each person is a jewel, regardless of their position in the hierarica- wait, no, hierarchical ladder. And while his father does frown upon his mom's rather western views, Ash doesn't see it affecting their family life in any way.

"So Ash, what are you reading?" The genuine curiosity in Oak's voice melted the rather… complicated thoughts away.

"Oh, just a book." Upon seeing the book's cover, Oak's eyes widened- this was handwritten copies of one of the most valuable book in human history! Moreover, the book definitely contained a lot of advanced information, like a list of all known genetic traits. And, looking at the notes that little Ash had made, Oak could see that the boy had a basic understanding of genetics- an impressive feat for his age, if one was willing to overlook several minor mistakes.

"Hey, Ash, my boy. You do see that note you made, right?"

Ash nodded, not knowing what the professor was leading him to.

"Actually, you made a mistake. There is no such combination as ABB for that flower." Ash was rather surprised; he had double checked it and everything! So what gives?

"Because, in this case, genome A is one that is responsible for the flower's colour, whereas genome B is responsible for the pattern's colour; you can't mix the two together when the problem asks you to find the odds of the flower having a pure white colour." Realization dawned on Ash.

"So you can't mix them like that?" Oak just shook his head in amusement. Perhaps Ash would...

"You could, but in this case, it is rather pointless." Seeing the boy nod his head understandingly, before rushing to look through his notes to spot if he had made a similar mistake elsewhere, sealed Oak's determination to carry out his plan. Yep, he's the one.

"You know Ash, you're a very studious boy." Seeing the boy tilt his head to the side in curiouity just made Oak chuckle.

"So, I would like to…"

* * *

"So, have you decided on a name yet?" Delia softly asked her husband, taking his hand.

"No" was the only reply she got, while Connor absentmindedly looked at the window. That wouldn't do it, Delia thought with a smirk.

"Hey, Con." Delia could have sworn that she saw a flash of annoyance in Connor's eyes. Suddenly, though, as the last candle was lit, a light breeze snaked through the room, playfully flickering the flames, despite the windows being closed. The breeze was surprisingly warm, seeing as it was the middle of august; it still carried that fresh, soothing feeling, and some scent... Delia cocked her head to the side, sniffing curiously. Is that... lavender? No, too sweet; it doesn't smell quite like bluebells either. No, rather, it's a... lily? Yes, definitely a lily.

Glancing to the side, she saw Connor's eyes widen at the same time, almost as if he recognised the smell as well. Their eyes met... No words were needed.

"Are we agreed?" Delia nodded in agreement.

And so, it started.

* * *

"Oh mighty ancestors." Connor chanted carefully, carefully holding his little girl up as she looked at the altar with wide, wonder-filled eyes. "We ask you to come tonight. We ask you to come, to witness the Vesting of one of your descendants. We ask you to protect her from evil spirits..." Here, the breeze started surrounding them, making the flames flicker ominously, making the baby look around, just a little scared as she let out a tiny whimper. "...and provide her with guidance needed in life. This humble boon we ask of you, our ancestors." At this point, the breeze got even stronger, and it howled, like a wolf, prowling around its prey."And now, from here on forth, this child shall be known as Laelynn." Here, the breeze lunged at the flames, extinguishing them completely. But if one was to look carefully, then the baby's eyes- who was crying hysterically right then, gained a slightly green tint.

* * *

 **RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-RED-GREEN-BLUE** **-**

* * *

 **AN: I changed my mind. So here it is, a day early. So, as usual, please review and tell me where I made mistakes.  
**


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